Always His
by TheOldVillianWriter
Summary: Molly and Jim have known each other since they were both seven. They have been through everything together since then. Now their plan comes into effect, only starting with The Great Game...
1. Chapter 1

I was in a dark mood so out came a dark story... As you can guess, I like Molly and Jim. Triggers may be included; Domestic violence and physical abuse featured in this particular one. Might get worse, depending on how I feel. Sorry for the mistakes in English and Gaelic. A little rusty. I still don't own any of the characters and never will probably. Please leave a comment. Thanks for reading!

…

He glances at the clock: 12:01 AM. Welcome, new year.

It doesn't really matter. What is a new year anyway? Just more days of boredom or planning. With some rest when it came to the thrill of the entire thing coming together, a job done absolutely flawlessly that nobody knew it was him at all. Well, apart from a couple of people. They can be dealt with one way or the other. For others, the new year might mark a new beginning. But not for James Moriarty. For him, it's just another morning.

What was the problem then? It was a little colder and he wasn't the answer hits him so hard. His heart is suddenly beating against his ribcage like a caged animal wanting out. His stomach is rolling, his breath is ragged.

He misses her.

His little game, the toy, the little diversion to get to Sherlock. Everything is special about her, really. Above average IQ, absolutely beautiful in his eyes and her utter brilliance. Everything he wanted to himself but had to share in order to get rid of him. He remembers her eyes, the way her whole face lit up to see him. Her laugh, or maybe it's the way she made him laugh. What they did as children. The little games that she would ultimately win; not because he let her, she was clever like that. He always though that he won in the end, having found her. The only person that understood.

It was after his parents died, he didn't like to tell anybody the real story of why he was sent to one of his uncles in England. Apart from her. She found out. She saw his scars. His father was abusive. He would hit him if he did the slightest thing wrong. Whip him with his belt if he didn't say his prayers. Use him as an ashtray. Even pushing him down the stairs for repeating a blasphemous phrase that his teacher said. He realised later on his mother had it worse. He would hear her scream and cry at night.

**"Cuir James, Tá brón orm!"** (_Please James, I'm Sorry!)_

Her only comfort would be the brief time that she and Jim had in the afternoon after he finished school for the day and when they went to her parents house for Christmas. That was the only time they felt protected, having three of his four uncles around.

That night was like most of them, she was crying and he was shouting just outside Jim's room. Right until her muffled scream, multiple thuds of something hitting the stairs and his father slamming the door as he left. He opened the door and was faced with his mother's body, her head bleeding. That was not the first time he cried because of him. He ran, as fast as he could, straight past the pub his father was in, and into the police station. The only time he would ever go in one until the Reichenbach fall.

He wouldn't believe a couple of days later, a young Molly would be sitting next to him. Swinging her legs about and offering him a muffin.

"My Mum always said to make people welcome. What better then to give them a chocolate muffin? Well, unless you don't like chocolate, or muffins..."

12:05. He rolls over, letting his face sink into the other side of the pillow. Smiling at the memory of it. For a seven year old, how could she be so wise and gracious as she is now. That's something he loved about her, she never changes for anyone. He just wants to hear her voice. So before he can change his mind, he picks up his phone from the nightstand. Unlocks it and for the first time in a long time, dials her number and makes a call.

"Hello you."

"Hey, Happy new year. What's it like over there?"

"You too. The usual. Toby's trying to sleep on my head again. Seb keeping you awake with his snoring again?"

"Something like that. I miss you..."

"I miss you too."

"Is breá liom tú ró, Molly." (_I love you too_, Molly.)

"I love you Jim. Being careful?"

"Aren't I always?"

...


	2. Chapter 2

It's the Great Game. Quite literally! Don't read if your a Vegetarian. Or like rabbits. Triggers may be included. Still might get worse, depending on how I feel. Still apologising for mistakes. I still don't own any of the characters and never will probably. The speech between Sherlock and Jim is exactly from the show, I try to stick to the show as much as possible. Gatiss and Moffat are too good! Please leave a comment. Thanks for reading! A special thanks for the complement from Wilhelm Wigworthy!

...

Jim was up earlier than usual. He wanted to make sure everything was ready. He went over his mental checklist and assured himself that all of the necessary arrangements had been made. He had planted everything ready for his first of many meetings with Sherlock. Whistling quietly, he went about the kitchen making breakfast.

Molly was not a morning person, she really detested mornings actually. Grunting in a very unladylike manner she pulled her duvet over her head and turned over, not knowing how he could deal with them.

"Good morning, Molly." He said cheerfully, but it was quiet and gentle as well. He hadn't wanted to wake her up, but it was seven o'clock. he had been up for a couple of hours. "Go away." Molly whined from underneath the covers. Burying her head further into her pillow, adamant about staying in bed. She was tired and really didn't want to go to work. The world wouldn't end if she just slept in, right? Of course it would, Sherlock wouldn't work with anyone else...

She growled and threw off her covers, sitting up. "I'm up, I'm up!"

"Breakfast is on the kitchen table." He said kissing her cheek. "I phoned you in sick. I need you for today."

"Really?" She raised an eyebrow, she was happy about it, but still dazed from waking up. "You're sure the world won't end if I take the day off?" Jim smiled at her little comment, though it was more of a smirk.

"Don't you worry about a thing. I've got everything planned." He put his arm around her and held her close, savouring the warmth of her presence. Since they rarely got to do this since this whole endeavour started. He played with her hair. What would he ever do without her? There'd just be a gaping hole where she should be, the one that she filled when they met. He swore on his life that he would keep both of them safe.

She eventually made it down stairs to eat. A little quicker than normal because she forgot that she didn't have work. Drinking some coffee as he joined her. "So...What's the plan for today?"

"Spend some time with you, strap John into a bomb and mess with Sherlock's head a bit." He muttered, as he laid his head in the nape on her neck comfortably, kissing it and holding her close. "At the Pool where little Carl was killed."

_Later on..._

"Sorry boys, I'm so changeable. It is a weakness in me; but to be fair to myself, it is my only weakness. You can't be allowed to continue, you just can't. I would try to convince you but everything I have to say has already crossed your mind."

Molly felt the tense moment as Sherlock turned and pointed the British Browning at the bomb. The infamous sniper Moran was looking over everything, from a excellent vantage point. Overlooking the pool with a few lanes and John sitting on the floor and leaning on the wall due to the relief of having the bomb ripped off him by Sherlock. She didn't expect that. They also had the best view of Jim and Sherlock, eyeing each other in their battle of minds. She had expected Sherlock's reaction and readjusted the rifle an her hands. Glancing at Sebastian for a split second before looking back into her scope. Her heart pumping. Her vision sharp. Ready to pull the trigger. At any moment.

"Probably my answer has crossed yours." Said Sherlock. Slowly moving towards the edge of the pool. His eyes firmly Jim.

_Ah, ah, ah, ah. Stayin' Alive._

"Hello? ... Yes, of course it is, What do you want?" Jim gave a apologetic look at Sherlock and turned. Listening to what Molly presumed to be Irene. Both her and Seb smiled at the irony of Jim's ringtone

"SAY THAT AGAIN. Say that again and know, if your lying to me, I will find you and I will SKIN you."

Sebastian turned to her and whispered. "What is it with him and skinning people?" Molly smiled as she remembered when Jim, her Father and she would go shooting when they went on holiday to the countryside. "Sorry, that might be my fault. We shot Rabbits and things as children, he would skin them so we could have a pie or something."

"Why the hell would you do that?" He looked partially disgusted at her. She looked at him, shaking her head, knowing that he wouldn't understand. "City boy. We will have to teach you sometime." She nudged him in the ribs. He playfully scowled at her and carried on looking at John through the scope. "Irene has pulled through then."

"Sorry, wrong day to die."

"Oh, did you get a better offer?"

"You'll be hearing from me Sherlock." Jim said before walking away and turning his attention to his phone. Clicking for Sebastian and Molly to pack up and ship out as quickly as possible.

"So, if you have what you say you have, I'll make you rich. If you don't, I'll make you into shoes..."


	3. Chapter 3

There might be some out there that might object to it but please focus on the story and writing. Sorry for the mistakes if you find them. Especially my Gaelic, It is a little rusty. Ok, I haven't done it in years so do tell me if it is wrong. I still don't own any of the characters and never will probably. Please leave a comment. Thanks for reading!

...

The lab was quiet save the soothing hum of equipment, and Molly enjoyed it as she sat at her computer finishing paperwork so she could go home. Jim was away for a few days, taking care of some type of business in Egypt; Molly didn't ask too many questions about the rest of his work. She was deep in thought as Sherlock and John walked in.

"Go on, ask her."

"This is ridiculous John. We both know it will easier and a lot less painful if you just ask her."

"Just do it Sherlock. Either that or I'm inviting Mycroft."

Sherlock growled at him then sighed as John shot him a look. He had no choice, so Sherlock stood the other side of the desk as she looked up. "Molly?"

"Oh, h-hello Sherlock. I didn't see you there." She said putting on her giddy crush act.

Sherlock looked back at John, almost asking him if he has to do it. John was at the other side of the room with his back turned. He could almost feel Sherlock's stare burning into his back. "John has asked me, for some ridiculous and unknown reason..." John cleared his throat, partly to get him to actually say it. Sherlock rolled his eyes and carried on what he and John practiced earlier. "Please could you accept the invitation to our Christmas party that John's making me do, even though he knows I hate being..."

"Sherlock." John warned him.

"It's fine. I would love to come." She smiled brightly at them. It was either that or laughing at him for being so dumb sometimes...

###

Molly was half asleep when she felt Jim slip into bed beside her in the late hours of Christmas day. Wrapping his arms around her. Her eyes slowly opened and she smiled, knowing who it was.

"Welcome back." Turning in his arms and giving him a passionate kiss. "I missed you." He smiled, pressing a kiss against her head.

"I should go away more often, if that's the welcome back I get."

She chuckles. "No you should not. You said you weren't coming back until New Years."

"My other Christmas present. Seb was alright, wasn't he?"

"A very good present." She kissed his collar bone. "Quiet as possible, when you factor in food and the Sig you brought him."

"How was your little party with Sherlock and the others?"

"I wore the dress and it worked like a charm. For once he apologised then kissed me on the cheek. He believes. The rest just gawped at me, their jaws dropping to the floor."

"That's my girl." He said with more emphasis on 'my' that he wanted, pulling Molly even closer to him. She enjoyed being in his arms and strangely liked his possessiveness.

"Merry Christmas Jim Moriarty."

"Merry Christmas Molly Hooper."

###

Molly unlocked the door to her flat, arms loaded down with plastic grocery bags. She lugged them through the sitting room and off the hall into the kitchen, dumping her burden on the small table. She was putting the milk away, and getting the food for dinner when she heard a sound from down the hall. She paused, listening, and a few seconds later, she heard it again. It was a familiar sound.

Molly left the kitchen and walked down the hall, passed the bedroom to the spare room. Faint light glowed from under the closed door, and Molly pushed it open quietly. She shook her head and leaned against the door frame, crossing her arms, looking at the two men in front of her. Jim sat in front of her computer, tapping away at the keys, giving a small chuckle. She could only assume it wasn't anything legal. Jim was hunched slightly, dressed in a shirt and a pair of black trousers. His dark hair was combed as neatly as always but barefooted, like he had been sat there since this morning. Seb was sitting on the bed watching him. It was like two children watching each other beat their high scores.

She cleared her throat, and Jim sat up straight, a few more clicks and the computer screen went dark. "What are you doing?" Molly asked, not even bothering to hide her smirk. "Uh…" he spun around in the office chair, dark eyes wide. Quickly looking over at Seb, who was trying his best to not burst out into laughter. "Er, games?"

Molly pressed her lips together, also trying not to laugh while attempting to appear disapproving. "It's work, isn't it?" Jim sighed and looked away.

"Maybe," he mumbled.

She turned her attention to her cousin. "Staying for some dinner Seb?"

"How can I miss your pasta?" She rolled her eyes it was either guns or food with him.. "Dinner in half an hour." She pulled the door closed behind her.

Back in the kitchen, Molly laughed while she started the water for pasta. It was completely ridiculous. Playing games…

Shaking his head, Jim pulled his chair back to the desk and with a few taps, brought the computer screen to life again. Both had been right; he had been playing the game with Irene and planning the Fall. Just for something to do.

"Jim! Seb! Dinner."

The couple sat across from each other at their small kitchen table, too preoccupied with their food to make conversation. Seb managing to trough the food into his mouth. It was an oddly domestic scene; a ruthless criminal mastermind, a pathologist and their assassin sitting in the comfortable quiet of her kitchen, eating pasta. When Seb finished, he praised her cooking and made a swift exit, having a job to do for Jim.

"You're not mad at me, are you?"

"Not really." Molly was in the middle of gathering dishes when Jim stood as well, and she felt his arms encircle her from behind. "I'm sorry, It won't happen again." He kissed the side of her neck, just under her ear. "Forgive me? Please?"

Setting the plates down, Molly turned in his arms, hands sliding up his shoulders. "Only because you're an adorable and the game thing was a little funny. Your work, your laptop, yeah?"

Jim leaned down and kissed her lips, then pulled back giving her a serious look. "Of course. You know if you ever call me that in public, I'll have to kill you."

"Oh, Shut up." Molly mumbled, and then pulled him back to her.

"When have I ever done that?" He kisses her again, almost sniggering. "Come on, Lets go for a walk. I believe Miss Adler is about to help me beat the Ice man at his own game."

_Jumbo Jet. Dear me, Mr Holmes. Dear me. - JM._


	4. Chapter 4

I found this rather good to write. It was different in any case. More of a filler really, but you get to see the real Jim and Molly. Triggers may be included. What I consider to be a rather funny suggestion of nudity in this one. There might be some out there that might object to it but please focus on the story and writing. Sorry for the mistakes if you find them. Especially my Gaelic, It is a little rusty. Ok, I haven't done it in years so do tell me if it is wrong. I still don't own any of the characters and never will probably. Please leave a comment. Thanks for reading!

…

"A massage sounds absolutely heavenly right now; I'm still surprised my muscles aren't so knotted that I can't move." He sighed and cracked his neck, Molly never liked it when he did that.

As Molly walked back in, he tried his best not to stare. Her dressing own undone to show her in a top and some of his underwear. He knew she was beautiful, but the baggy clothes she had on for the plan kept her figure from him each time they saw each other. That never stopped him from being in awe of her body the few times she showed it off. These few days had been bliss for him in that respect. He had her in his arms for once, the Molly he knew. He tried to keep his eyes from hungrily tracing every curve of her body. Instead, he kept his gaze fixed on hers.

Molly chuckled at him, she knew exactly what he was doing. Raising an eyebrow, she got him to lay on the stomach. Stretching out over the bed, he crossed his arms in front of him as a makeshift pillow to rest his head on. Jim smiled. Starting with his neck and shoulders, she slowly worked his way down her body, rubbing out every knot and putting every vertebra back into place. "You've been working all week. Everything sorted out?" "He going to fall, soon enough."

"Good." Kissing the date that he had tattooed onto his shoulder. She worked her thumbs into the spots right above the shoulder blades on either side of his spine. "Ah, right there," He groaned as she hit a particularly annoying kink just beneath his shoulder blade. "Why weren't you a masseuse again?" Jim asked sleepily.

"Because it was boring," She replied cheekily, yet with a softness as well. He hummed an answer. Words weren't coming to him right now. If this could only last forever... but no, then he couldn't get his hands on her, now, could he? He wanted her so badly right now, to just pull her up to him and feel those legs, those lips, the gentle curve of her back...

Then, satisfied there were no kinks to work out, she trailed her hands down his ribs and began to work on the muscles in his lower back. "Have you been working out lately?"

"Maybe," he teased. He really loved those hands. They were perfect. She was perfect. "Why do you ask?"

"Ah, it's nothing, just noticed you actually had muscle," She teased. He really was fun to tease, he always reacted somehow.

"Chee~" He could have gotten her back back particularly tense muscle. He moaned in pleasure, and a peculiar sensation raced up his spine. Molly wore a warm little smile, he really was the most important person, he didn't have to worry about anyone taking her away.

Again, Jim hummed his pleasure, especially when she hugged him. Her skin was so soft and warm against his. He wanted to take her into his arms and hold her forever, though he knew this wasn't the time. "Is breá liom tú." He murmured onto her skin.

"Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"Love you too. Perhaps, we should make some lunch?"

"Already? Where has our morning gone?" he laughed, pulling her close once again. He really did love the feel of her skin. It was so much smoother than his, though since he was male he supposed it was slightly excusable. Still, he should try a little moisturiser a little more often. He was sure Molly would appreciate that, especially if he used the one that smelled like vanilla. They always been together, so they knew each other better than themselves and always held each other up. They compensated for each other.

"Something light?"

"As you wish," he replied, getting up and bowing with a flourish. He turned around and, after grabbing his shirt, so he didn't burn himself, and started to walk. "Jim?"

"Hm?" He turned around and looked back at her just at the foot of the bed.

"You might want to put some boxers on."

The salad had chicken and bacon, even a few croutons in the mix. The sauce looked like one of his home-made dressings, pomegranate vinaigrette and lemon. Her favourite.

"What do you think? Look good?"

"Of course it does; you're not just a consulting criminal after all," Molly said softly, smiling. It was rather profound to her, how perfectly they complimented each other. "So would you say that I'm a better criminal or chef?" He asked with a teasing smile. He kissed the top of her head before gently nudging her so that he could dish up for the two of them.

"Trick question?" She asked, letting go of his waist and heading for the table, though not before grabbing the salad bowl to bring with her. Might as well make less trips after all. Jim laughed at her answer, a rich sound that echoed throughout the house. He should have expected an answer like that. After wiping a tear from his eye, "You are most definitely a clever one," He finally replied.

She loved when he laughed. It was getting rarer and rarer these days it seemed, and she was infinitely happy that she was still able to be the reason he laughed. "Why, thank you." She performed a rather elaborate mock curtsey, like one would for a king, he was one after all.

"This is just as fantastic as it smells." She smiled and took a sip of some water.

"Well, you, deserve nothing less than the best. If I fail to deliver that in any way... well neamh help me."

"Heaven? What do they have to do with us?" She smirked and took another sip.

"Or hell, whichever is more willing. Is that how you say it in English, never bothered with it."

"There we go, the man is making sense again."

"Making sense? Oh dear, is féidir liom feiceáil sane? Ní bheidh an a dhéanamh ar chor ar bith!" _(Oh dear, do I appear sane? That won't do at all!)_ He crossed his eyes and made an odd expression, sticking his tongue out and crossing his eyebrows. It was childish, yes, but he was in a good mood, so why not? It wouldn't hurt anyone unless he got stuck that way. After a few seconds his face went back to normal, and he laughed. Molly couldn't help but laugh as well, loudly. It was rare to see him be so silly and the pleasure went only to her, she was sure of it. It reminded her of when they were younger. It had only been them for so long, there was no reason for that to change anytime soon. Their world was just too small for anyone else to possibly fit, after all. "How was that? Better?" he winked, then resumed eating as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

"Yes, much better. You're mad as a hatter now."

"Good. I quite like a good hatter. I think madness helps creativity. Don't you agree?"

"Yes, I think you are right. A little bit of madness, or creativity depending on your area of study, never hurt anyone, I think."

"Which is why we are so successful?"

"Oh yes, of course." Molly mimicked him with her own little flourish.

"Excellent," he commented as he set down the glass. "I better tell you the plan before he gets back from Dartmoor. It's been nice to have you all to myself." He smiled. This day, this woman, was absolutely perfect.

How on earth had they gotten so lucky?

...


	5. Chapter 5

There might be some out there that might object to it but please focus on the story and writing. The end is the reason why I knew Moriarty might pop back up in the third series. It took two weeks to click after the Reichenbach Fall but I was right! Haha, I literally pick up on all the references in all the series. Sorry for the mistakes if you find them. Especially my Gaelic, It is a little rusty. Ok, I haven't done it in years so do tell me if it is wrong. I still don't own any of the characters and never will probably. Please leave a comment. Thanks for reading!

...

"Falls of the Reichenbach, Turner's masterpiece, thankfully recovered owing to the prodigious talent of Mr. Sherlock Holmes."

"Back together with my family after my terrifying ordeal; and we have one person to thank for my deliverance – Sherlock Holmes."

"Peter Ricoletti: number one on Interpol's Most Wanted list since nineteen eighty-two. But we got him; and there's one person we have to thank for giving us the decisive leads ... with all his customary diplomacy and tact."

TOWER OF LONDON, 11:00.

A number of tourists are walking about in the grounds, looking around, talking to the Beefeaters, taking photographs. One tourist wearing jeans, trainers, a light grey jacket and a cap with "London" printed on it and with a union flag on the peak is aiming his camera phone around and taking pictures like all the others. Jim Moriarty lowers his camera, chewing nonchalantly on a piece of gum.

Jim walks through security and enters the room. He stops at the large display case in the middle of the room and looks at the throne inside the case. On the throne is a red velvet cushion with an ornate crown resting on it. An equally ornate orb is balanced on one arm of the throne and a sceptre rests across the other arm. As other tourists walk around the case, Jim takes a pair of earphones from his pocket and pokes them into his ears. Bending his head from side to side to crack his neck, he lifts his phone and switches it on, then closes his eyes in bliss, still rolling his head on his neck and spreading his arms either side of him and then slowly beginning to lower them to Overture to Rossini's 'The Thieving Magpie'.

Jim finishes lowering his arms and then lifts up the phone and scrolls through the app icons on it. He pushes aside the one that has a cartoon of a prisoner with striped prison clothes and standing behind bars, scrolls past the one of a piggy bank with the English flag on it, and selects the one with a crown on it. The icon of the crown unfolds like a padlock being unlocked and almost instantly the alarms start to go off.

"This is an emergency. Please leave the building."

The tourists start to hurry out of the room. A security guard walks over to Jim, assuming that he can't hear the alarm through his earphones, and puts a hand on his shoulder to attract his attention.

"Sir, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."

Jim turns and sprays something into his face and he immediately collapses unconscious. The security door closes and locks, and Jim takes his cap off and smoothes his hair out. Casually clicking on the icon for the Bank of London before he flamboyantly scrawls a message onto the glass of the display case. Finishing the message, he draws a smiley face inside the letter "O".

Lifting his phone once more, he selects the app with the prisoner on it. The bars over the prisoner lift away and the striped jacket which the icon is wearing turns into a plain black one. Pulling his piece of chewing gum from between his teeth, he sticks it onto the glass. Leaving the whole piece of gum stuck there, he takes a tiny diamond from a box and, grinning manically, carefully presses the jewel into the gum. Turning away from the case, he slips his jacket off and drops it to the floor. Then raised his arms upwards either side above his head in an almost balletic flourish.

Outside, police cars and vans begin to pour into the Tower grounds. Jim continues to dance around the White Tower while outside, the last of the tourists are hustled out of the building. Armed police leap out of a van and run into the Tower.

Inside, Pulling black leather gloves onto his hands, Jim goes to the wall and picks up a fire extinguisher. Dancing dramatically towards the case, raises the fire extinguisher with the bottom end pointed towards the glass and rams it towards the chewing gum and diamond. The glass shatters around the impact point. The armed police charge through the metal detector, repeatedly setting the alarm off.

Detective Inspector Lestrade's car screams into the grounds and he and Donovan jump out and race into the White Tower. Inside, the armed police disable the lock to the door and it swings open. They charge inside and are greeted by the sight of Jim Moriarty sitting on the throne inside the case, wearing an ermine trimmed robe, the crown on his head, the orb between his knees and holding the sceptre across his lap, with his earphones still in. He has his eyes closed in bliss as the music comes to an end. He opens his eyes and smiles at the new arrivals.

"No Rush."

_Six weeks later... _

A woman strode into the Old Bailey, like she was meant to be there. She had stunning deep red and put on some rather fitting Green dress, as well as heels, that she 'acquired' off Irene Adler. With matching makeup, Emerald accessories, sun glasses and a small hat. Everything you would expect the sister of James Moriarty to have.

"Miss Eva Moriarty to see James Moriarty."

The Sargent didn't look up at her. "No visitors. He's going to Court in an hour." Molly glares down at him, taking off her sunglasses. She had put contacts in so her eyes were as dark and as menacing as Jim's.

"I am a Lawyer, Sargent. This is an infringement of his rights and I will have you job within the hour if you do not. I have his suit for his trial."

Jim heard the a set of heels working down the corridor and stopping in front of his cell door. She stood in front of him, for a few second he didn't realise who it was. She put his pressed suit on the bed with a silver box on top. Grabbing her and pulling her as close as he could to her, whispering in her ear.

"Mo ghrá?" _(My love?)_

"Is féidir, ach a cheapann siad tá mé do dheirfiúr, Eva." _(Yes, but they think I am your sister, Eva.) _She explained to him. Her voice low so the camera couldn't pick it up.

"Tá tú na mná is cliste agus álainn bhuail mé. Choinnigh tú an ailias léir an am seo."_(You are the most intelligent and beautiful women I have met. The alias you kept all this time.) _He sighed, kissing her cheek and resting his head on her shoulder.

"Is ea, agus grá agam duit. Cad atá cearr? Tá siad cóireáil ceart, nach bhfuil siad?" _(Yes and I love you. What's the matter? They've been treating right, haven't they?)_

He smiled. "I'm fine, really."

"I'll let you get dressed." She smiles. "It's the Grey one. I know you like that one." She smiles and turns and lets him get dressed into the wearing a smart light grey suit, white shirt and pale grey tie.

"There's something missing." He stated, he always prided himself on appearances.

She pulled out a matching handkerchief and a small box. "Ligeann fheiceáil má tá Holmes chomh observant a mórtasach as sé é féin a bheith."_ (Lets see if Holmes is as observant as he prides himself to be.)_ Folding a matching handkerchief into his pocket and opening the small box that she had in the pocket of of her Jacket. He smirked as she put the pin on him. Molly slipped her hand in his pocket while they where close. "Something to keep you from getting too bored.

Not long afterwards and surrounded by prison officers, he is being escorted along the corridors towards the court. As he walks along, a small smile begins to creep on his face. Jim and his prison escort reach the top of the stairs and he is turned sideways and walked into the dock. As a female prison officer comes across to check his restraints, he turns his head and murmurs into her ear.

"Would you mind slipping your hand into my pocket?"

The officer looks at one of her male colleagues, who nods in agreement. Looking rather uncomfortable, she slides her fingers into Jim's trouser pocket and pulls out the contents as Jim breathes very close to her face and gazes into her eyes before poking his tongue out. She puts the piece of chewing gum onto his tongue and he draws his tongue back in and begins to chew, smiling at her creepily. It wasn't even half as enjoyable as when Molly put the chewing gum in.

"Not Guilty."

James Moriarty, the free man got into the car. He rolled up the blackened windows and the car drives away. He looks up at the woman next to him."Do you think he noticed the tie pin?"

"No. I think you might have to point it out to him." Molly smiled

"Sin an fáth a bhfuil grá agam duit." _(That's why I love you.)_ Kissing her, since he could not do it that morning. "Why the Fox?"

"Have you heard the Grim tale about the wedding of Mrs Fox?"

"Tell it to me." He smiled, knowing what she was about to tell him. Lying his head in her lap and smiling as she ran her hand through his hair.

"There was once upon a time an old fox with nine tails, who believed that his wife was not faithful to him, and wished to put her to the test. He stretched himself out under the bench, did not move a limb, and behaved as if he were stone dead..."

...


	6. Chapter 6

This may be a little bit of a filler but you learn a lot about them. Sorry for the mistakes if you find them. Especially my Gaelic, It is a little rusty. Ok, I haven't done it in years so do tell me if it is wrong. I still don't own any of the characters and never will probably. Please leave a comment. Thanks for reading!

...

It had been a week since Molly had last seen Jim. He had refused to tell her whether or not he'd be back in town by tonight. She smiled at the thought of seeing him and had to remember not to look too happy while she was examining a corpse. Most people would probably find someone who was too happy unsettling in her line of work.

Molly looked down at the body in front of her and took off her gloves, discarding them in the nearby rubbish bin. She marked down the cause of death, a gunshot to the head, and marked it as a definite suicide. He was her last examination for the night, so she decided it was time for a coffee. She was surprised Jim had even kept his word and called her just about every night he'd been gone. And when he hadn't been able to call her, he texted her to say goodnight at the very least. She sighed at the thought and sipped her coffee.

"Molly?" Jim partially sang her name.

"Jim!" Quickly putting her cup down as she saw him, almost running over to him. He leans on one of the tables with both hands, face white, panting a little as blood oozes from his split lips. "What happened?" Her mind racing.

"Funny story I had a minor disagreement with some very idiotic men."

"How minor?" She frowns, pushing him onto the chair she. He lifts one side of his jacket, wincing in pain. She gasps at the huge red splotch on his shirt. Molly shakes her head. "You're a doctor, right? Can you sew it up?"

She runs over to the overhead cupboards to collect everything and practically runs the few steps back to the table too. She gets the shirt off with no major difficulties and examines the wound. It's a decent slash, not very long but deep, on his side. She tries to clean it but the cut's still bleeding steadily.

"I'll have to stitch it. Do you need something for the pain?" She glances up.

"Tá a fhios agat de ghnáth ba mhaith liom a dhéanamh ar roinnt punt faoi suilt as é, ach ní raibh mé úsáid aon rud atá tú a fuair sé." _(I would make some pun about enjoying it, but I'm going to need anything you've got.)_ The pain was intense enough that he couldn't be bothered with English. Before he knew it she had disappeared and come back with a little bottle of morphine.

"Cad é seo?" _(What's this?)_

"Cuideoidh sé leis an pian." _(Something for the pain.)_

"Go sonrach?" He raises a brow_. (Specifically?)_

"Moirfín." _(Morphine.)_

"Dom-ádh." (_Lucky me.)_ He drawls as she injected him. Molly puts on a fresh pair of gloves and finds some thread, opening a new needle. By the time she is ready Jim's eyes have gone even dreamier and he lent back in the chair.

"A bhraitheann tú rud ar bith?" _(Do you feel anything?_) She places a hand above the wound. He smiles wryly as she makes the first suture. Jim seems oblivious to the pain and she continues, fairly used to stitching people back up. Her work is quick and neat, and when she eventually cuts the thread. Molly tapes a bandage over the stitches and sits back.

"Arna dhéanamh. Feicfidh tú scar eile do dhaoine a thaispeáint." _(Done, you'll have another scar to show people.)_

He winks, sliding slowly back into English. "Woman love scars."

"Something about dangerous men, I've heard."

"You're saying you don't find my threatening air of menace attractive?" He tries to stretch his arms and winces at the pain again.

"Maybe, when your not injured."

"Ah, well just wait, you won't be able to resist." He stands, reaching for his jacket unsteadily. "Tá a fhios agat do an ceann amháin a fheiceann siad, an ceann amháin i fiche ceithre bliana."_ (You're the only one that's seen all of then in twenty four years.)_ She bites her lip, thinking herself lucky. Giving him a quick kiss. For a moment he folded his arms around her with little pain.

"Agus tá mé an ceann amháin a phóg gach ceann amháin." _(And I'm the only one to have kissed every single one.)_ She says, remembering each one and how he got it. Trying not to think of the ones that his father gave him.

"Thank you Molly." Molly takes his arm and waits as he takes slow steps towards the elevator, trying hard not to let his discomfort show. Eventually getting him to the car and to her flat. Slipping him into bed so he can sleep it off.

In the morning, Molly was in the kitchen as Jim got himself on the sofa somehow, Toby in his lap. Pen and paper in his hand.

"Morning. How did you sleep?"

"Fine. Have you got some more painkillers?

She walks into the room with a glass of water and a couple of pills. She sits next to him and lifts away the fabric, gently unsticking the plaster. "Are you hungry?"

"Famished. Can I have some tea too?" His phone goes off. He presses the phone to his ear and raises one of his brows. Murmuring her cousins name and rolling his eyes. Pressing a kiss on her head as she redressed it. "No, I want to see all of them dead. No exceptions Seb... Shoot them, poison, whatever, you can starve them for all I care. Just get it done! They need to know, They all need to know."

He hangs up and she smiles, glancing over her shoulder. Jim's head is back against the cushions, his eyes closed. She puts down her cloth and walks over with a plate and a cup of tea. Glancing over what he had written.

_Hello. Are you ready for the story? This is the story of Sir Boast-a-lot. Sir Boast-a-lot was the bravest and cleverest knight at the Round Table, but soon the other knights began to grow tired of his stories about how brave he was and how many dragons he'd slain..._

"Do you want to move to the bed?"

"I'm fine here." He smiles as he gets a text from Seb with a picture. "Nobody messes with Moriarty."

"He got them then."

"All ten of them. Shouldn't have had that meeting in the back room of our restaurant. They really do support their patron." She chuckles at the thought and grabs the cover off her bed. "Either that or they lose their best customer and most of their business." Jim pulled her down onto the sofa with him, the cover over them both. Leaning his head on her shoulder and arms around her waist. He was comfortable and the painkillers set in. "I was thinking of going back after he falls. I want to sit under the oak tree again."

"Nostalgic are we?"

"I miss it a little. Remember when we would sit there for ages."

"You would teach me Gaelic so nobody could understand us."

He nods. "We slept together under the stars and your mother didn't know where you were and grounded you for two weeks."

"Your aunt grounded you for a month for the same thing."

"And talking back to her in Gaelic." He chuckled. "You still snuck out and jumped over the garden fences to see me."

"You nearly broke my window once getting in and my dad nearly caught you."

"Only because you shoved me in the wardrobe..."

...


	7. Chapter 7

There might be some out there that might object to it but please focus on the story and writing. I'm working off the theory that he is still alive although, if his return turns out to be fake in the fourth series then I have a back up plan. Triggers this time. Sorry for the mistakes if you find them. I still don't own any of the characters and never will probably. Please leave a comment. Thanks for reading!

...

It was ridiculous standing in the lab like it's a normal morning when Molly knows that Jim was up on the roof and could do nothing, just hoping that he got her text. The morgue was full of activity due to a serious road traffic collision. She sits in the corner with her growing mound of paperwork and directs the orderlies when they come down with new bodies.

She's finished about half the pile when a new cadaver is wheeled in fairly quickly, Detective Inspector Lestrade close behind.

"Greg?" She stands.

"Suicide."

She puts aside her pen and walks to the table as the orderlies lift the body onto the surface. She peels back the sheet, examining the one bullet hole to the forehead..

"Sorry," Lestrade says hastily. "Look like you've had a busy day."

"Very. It's not suicide"

"What?" The detective inspector looks at her confused.

"Angle of trajectory if forty five degrees to the right. Virtually impossible for a left handed person. If he was committing suicide it would he straight on or to the left slightly."

"How do you know he was left handed?"

"The lettering on the left side of his glasses has worn off." He just stared at her in utter shock.

"Is there anything wrong Greg?"

"When did you become bloody Sherlock Holmes?" It was then when he heard the ball bounce off the wall in the lab. "He's here, isn't he? For god sake."

Sherlock is still in the same place since she came in a couple of hours ago, although he's now sitting down with his feet up on the bench. He is rapidly rolling the rubber ball from side to side across the bench, his fingers flickering rapidly over the top of the ball. John sitting on a bench near. The lab doors burst open "What the hell are you two doing here?"

"A case." Sherlock didn't even look at Greg as he lied, keeping his eye on the ball.

"A case? You were both arrested."

"You didn't say you were arrested Sherlock. I could lose my job over this."

"It was nothing. Anderson and Donavan think I kill and kidnap for a thrill and John assaulted Greg's boss." He directed at Molly, murmuring the next part. "It seems all the knights thought the stories weren't true. A lie wrapped up in the truth, he's very clever."

She noticed the slight smile on John and Greg's faces, not paying attention to his mutterings. Knowing full well what he was saying.

"He deserved that." Greg said walking out of the morgue. John want back to the discussion he was having with Sherlock.

"What did he touch?"

"An apple. Nothing else" Sherlock started to drum bis fingers again.

"Did he write anything down?"

"No."

Molly watched them both for a little while before returning to her work. John hisses in a breath and looks away, racking his brains and again unconsciously mimicking his friend by drumming his own fingers on the bench. After a moment, he turns and walks across the lab, blowing the breath out again. She could hear Sherlock's fingers drum out the beat the Jim had left for him. Partita number one by Johann Sebastian Bach.

Come and play. Bart's hospital roof. SH PS. I've got something to might want back.

I'm waiting... JM.

###

Jim blinks and lowers his gaze as if blinking back tears. "As long as I'm alive, you can save your friends; you've got a way out." His mind still whirling with what he was about to do.

"Well, good luck with that."

In rapid succession he raises his eyes to Sherlock's, grinning manically at him. Opens his mouth wide, pulls Sherlock closer as he reaches into his waistband. Pulling a pistol out. Raising it towards his own mouth. As Sherlock instinctively pulls back as Jim pulls the trigger. Dropping to the roof instantly.

Sherlock stares in horror as blood begins to trickle across the roof underneath Jim's head. He didn't think that he would go that far. Jim's eyes are fixed and open and there is a smile of victory on his face. Sherlock spins away from him, his breathing noisy and frantic as he raises his hands to his head in horror for the first time.

Sherlock gazes down at his friend for several seconds, crocodile tears streaming down his eyes. Then he lowers his arm and drops the phone onto the roof, gazing ahead of himself, focusing on the building in front of them. John lowers his own phone and screams "Sherlock!" upwards as he spreads his arms to either side and falls forward, plummeting towards the ground.

The plan worked. The sniper lifted the target off John. The plain clothes officer walks straight past Lestrade's office instead of going in and the workman replaced his gun back into his toolbox, just before Mrs Hudson gives him a cup of tea.

The 'orderlies' that Mycroft lent them wheeled Sherlock's body into the morgue as Molly sat the desk. "Doctor Hooper, erm, I'll warn you. It's not pretty. I'd get somebody else to do it, if I were you." They kept the drama going until the bitter end.

"Thank you. I'll see if I can." She said with a rather good mournful face, pretending to be devastated. They slowly retreated, knowing she might cry very soon. Her eyes follow them, locking the door.

"All clear Sherlock." Unzipping the bag he was in. He climbed out the bad and threw his coat and scarf on the floor

"Thank you Molly. Mycroft's men are too slow."

###

He was lounging over her sofa, tapping away on his phone with a look of unrestrained glee as she walked into the room from work. He had stripped himself of the ruined suit and thrown a pair of clean trousers he found somewhere in her flat. He had noticed that she had Sherlock's scarf in her hand.

"Did it work?"

"Perfectly. He thinks your dead and going to be buried in his fake grave and the rest of the world thinks you've disappeared into thin air. What mischief are you up to now?"

"Good. Do you really want to know?" Jim smiled.

"Maybe. Will you be making a comeback anytime soon? Or do I have you all to myself?" She smirked, enjoying the idea of it. Throwing her things onto the chair.

"Maybe. All in time." He raised his arm, looked up and smiled at her. A smile she had not seen in ages, one he only had with her around. Molly laid against him gladly, resting her head on his chest as he stroked the waves of her hair. He looked down at her. "I'll warn you, your bath looks like a crime scene. Blood is not really my thing."

"I'll bleach it later." Kissing his chest. He silently typed away for a little while before leaning over and putting it on the table. He moved around so that they laid together. Putting his arms around her and holding her close.

"I got us a place over there. Somewhere quiet while I'm not part of the living"

"Really? Jim, that's great."

"A bit of land, very good views, loads of space, extra bedrooms for when Seb and his cohorts come around. I get my own office."

"Sounds perfect. When can we go and see it?"

"Move in whenever we want."

"Already?"

He nods. "After the 'funeral'. Take a couple of weeks off and we can move in."


	8. Chapter 8

This is just an cute but dark and emotional bit for Jim. Tempers rise too. Protective Moriarty and Moran. Sorry for the mistakes if you find them. Especially my Gaelic, It is a little rusty. Ok, I haven't done it in years so do tell me if it is wrong. Triggers in this one. Indication of abuse and murder again. I still don't own any of the characters and never will probably. Please leave a comment. Thanks for reading!

...

Molly slid the covers off and looked over at Jim still asleep, snoring softly against the pillow. She picked the discarded clothes up from the floor and threw them in the Landry basket on the way to the bathroom.

There was a large old fashioned bath tub in the center of the room, a shower off in the corner with a glass door, a sink against the wall with a mirror above it. Dressing gowns hanging from the wall. Quickly taking a shower before Jim woke up.

She went over to the wardrobe and threw it open. Inside were dresses a few skirts and nice shirts, far better and more expensive then the mousy Molly that Sherlock knew could ever dream about.

"The blue one looks nice."

Molly spun around quietly and looked at the tall blonde man. Using the dressing gown to cover herself. "Seb! You idiot, you scared me." Keeping her voice hushed to the minimum.

A surprisingly thin man with nothing but a T-Shirt, boxers and an open dressing gown. There was a small scars all over him. As well as cuts, the latest one on his shoulder that she had to sew up a couple of nights ago. For once he rather enjoyed somebody actually fighting back.

"Breakfast is ready. Will sleeping beauty be joining us?" He chuckles. She took out the dress and looked over a Jim, rolled up in the duvet and his face buried in the pillow.

"You and your food. Leave him for a bit. First time he's slept through the night since the fall.

"I'm a active man. You must have warn him out." He teased.

"Oh shut up Seb. I'll meet you down there. You might be my cousin but I'm not getting dressed in front of you. And put some trousers on!" Pushing him out the door and shutting it, hearing his muffled laugh going down the corridor as he made his way to the dining room.

Molly entered the large dining room ten minutes later. There was tea, coffee, an assortment of fruits, pastries, and jam. It looked as if someone was expecting a large group of people.

"I know we eat a lot but this is quiet extreme."

"We have a meeting in a hour and a half. Thought we might put on a bit of a show."

"When have you been one for show?" She had picked up the newspaper and started to flick through as she put some fruit in her bowl.

"You never know..."

She raised on of her eyebrows. "Says the man that sits on his bosses's expensive furniture in his underwear every morning."

"I'm the only one that sits on this seat anyway. Tradition, privilege even, since I'm the right hand man." He winks, tucking into the full cooked breakfast the chef placed in front of him.

"You know he will move it just to annoy you."

"I'll scratch my name in it and move it back." He had his mouth full as he answered.

Molly looked up to see Jim standing behind Seb, grinning. She couldn't stop herself giggling as he crept up behind him and whisper into his ear. "Dare scratch anything into my furniture and I will carve my name deep into your back."

"Morning boss." Smiling slightly nervously, swallowing his food, Seb straightened up and slowly turned his head to see Jim his in one of his trademark Westwood suits. Staring down at him, telling him to get ready.

"You're paying for that chair to be disinfected too." He shouted behind him as Seb walked to the bedrooms with a piece of toast hanging out of his mouth. Sticking his middle finger up behind Jim's back as he left.

"He may be the best but he's a slob." Jim commented as he kissed Molly and sat at the head of the table. Opening the paper.

"I've checked, most of it was our doing."

Jim smirked as he started to eat things from Seb's plate. She loved that smirk. He put his hand over hers and smiled. "You look nice, enjoying it here?"

"I love it Jim. Why didn't you tell me it was this place?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise. We always wanted this place."

"From the first time we saw it from the oak tree, I remember. We were ten."

"We broke in at twelve to see what was like."

"That was a close call."

"Oi, boss. They're ready." Seb interrupted as he shouted from corridor, neatening his tie. Jim just rolled his eyes and kissed Molly. "You might want to go into the living room, it might get a little... heated. They will all want answers."

She nods and moves into the living room. Half an hour and the shouting started, she could hear it through the walls. It was mostly Jim's voice due to his temper but Molly simply ignored it. It was always him. There has only bee one time she has had to go in and break a fight up. Even then, two people ended up dead. She didn't jump up until she heard Jim shout. "WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY? DON'T YOU DARE CALL ME JAMES!"

As she nearly burst in she saw all the astounded faces as Jim had one of the men pinned up against the wall, a knife against his neck. Seb gingerly trying to get him to drop it.

"Great, now look what you've done Evan. The mistress is here." Most of the table tried to suppress a chuckle. Both Jim and Seb snapped their angry gazes on the man at the other end of the table. Almost instantly Seb pulled out his gun and Jim let the man go and stabbed the the knife firmly and deeply into the table.

They carried on staring at him as Molly gently got her cousin to relinquish his gun to her. At that point Jim stormed out of the room. Seb shouted at them all telling them to leave before quickly hugging her. "I'm sorry Molly, I don't know what came over me."

"It's ok Seb. I'm keeping the gun until you calm down properly."

He nods. "I wouldn't trust myself with it. I would probably hunt him down. You better take the keys to the gun cabinet too."

With all the weapons in the house locked away, she went in search of Jim. Immediately going up to the old oak tree in the grounds. She looked around until, slowly, a protective hand wrapped around the Molly's neck. Possessively, she was drawn towards the man behind her. His lips collided with hers, a hint of morning coffee and cigarettes in the kiss. Molly grasped for Jim's shirt and held it tightly in her hand as he broke the kiss, leaning his forehead to hers.

"Idiots, all of them."

"I know. You need them though, until we have everything in order." She a hand on his face and stroked his cheek with her thumb.

"I want to kill them all."

"Not yet."

He pulled her into a even tighter embrace and looked down at her before suddenly looking away and releasing her.

"What's the matter Jim?"

He looked away, silent for ages before she repeated the question. "Bhí sé fiche cúig bliain ó shin lá atá inniu ann agus bhí mé fear go dtí an balla le scian ar a mhuineál. Tá mé ag éirí air. Molly, I mo thuairimse, Tá mé ag casadh iarbhír i James."_ (It was twenty five years ago today and I have a man pinned to the wall with a knife. I'm becoming him. Molly, I think I'm actually turning into James.) _He sank to the floor and put his hand in his face. "An rud amháin fuath liom an chuid is mó agus tá mé ag éirí air."(_The one thing I hate the most and I'm becoming him.)_

"Jim, look at me." She knelt down in front of him, lifted his chin up and kissed him. Remembering the few stories that Jim managed to tell her. "You are not James. Your kinder, more thoughtful and a lot less violent that him."

"Tá mé ag éirí air Molly. Níl mé ag iarraidh a ghortú leat." (_I'm becoming him Molly. I don't want to hurt you.)_

"That's the difference between you two. He knowingly and willingly harmed your mother to his advantage. You would never do that to the ones you love."

He pulled her into a tighter hug and laid down on the grass with her on top of him. "If I ever lay a hand on you like that, slap me back and run. Don't even look back for me later, make a new life. Promise me."

"You won't Jim."

"Just say it, please. For me."

"Fine, I promise I'll leave and not look back. Even though I know you will never do that."

"Thank you." Kissing her forehead. "She was trying to escape from him, tell him she wanted a divorce. That's why I never asked if you would marry me, so you could get away if you needed to."

"I know you better than myself. You wouldn't do anything and I would never leave you unless something like that happened."

He paused for a second, looking down at her and kissing her. "Ar mhaith leat a pósadh liom aon lá amháin?" _(Would you marry me one day?)_

"Is breá liom tú. Ar ndóigh mhaith liom é." (I love you, of course I will marry you one day.) She said, kissing him.

...


	9. Chapter 9

Sorry for the mistakes if you find them. Especially my Gaelic, It is a little rusty. Ok, I haven't done it in years so do tell me if it is wrong. Triggers. I still don't own any of the characters and never will probably. Please leave a comment. Thanks for reading!

...

The rain that was hammering down on the windows slowly woke Molly up. It had been like this for days, ever since the meeting. She could hear Jim and Seb in the other room, trying to be as quiet as they could. Which wasn't as quiet as they hoped. Sitting up, Jim's footsteps were quietly approaching her, a mug placed on side table behind.

The bed dipped in front of her as Jim sat down. He was smiling ever so slightly, looking right at her with his captivating dark eyes. She smiled a lazily at him. It was hard to believe that he was even the same criminal mastermind everyone knew him to be. They both laid there, not saying a word, just laying so close to one another listening to the rain dance on the windows.

For a while, Jim just rested his head on his pillow, studying every inch of her face without a word. He whispers to her, cupping her cheek and stroking her lip. Curling her fingers around his hand and lacing them together. Jim smiled, with such a genuine and warm smile. "Baineann sé le bheith tríocha dó bliain ó shin a rugadh tú. Fiche Cúig bliana ó shin bhuail muid agus atá againn le chéile ar feadh cúig bliana déag. Conas cuileoga am." _(It's been thirty two years since you were born. Twenty Five years since we met and we've been together for fifteen years. How time flies.)_

She kissed him and smiled, "Has it really been that long?"

He nods and kissing her again. "I checked, I really has."

She began to get up when Jim's arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her back onto the bed. "Where do you think you are going madam?" He joked, kissing her neck.

"We can't stay in bed all day."

"I mo thuairimse, ba chóir dúinn. Gach lá..." _(I think we should. All day.) _Jim suggested in his seductive voice. "But Seb is bringing you breakfast in bed."

"Ok, since he's bring me breakfast and he doesn't eat it on the way up." She smiled and whispered into his ear. "Chéadsearc níos déanaí." _(Later sweetheart.)_

Jim smirked, kissing and biting her neck gently. Jim caught her off guard, pulling her face to his for a quick kiss on the lips. "I'll take your word for it." He grinned as Seb walked in backwards through the door with a tray full of food.

"Happy birthday Molly." Seb smiled.

There were several things that were new around the house. She didn't like much attention on her birthday. There were a couple of dresses in the wardrobe, a couple of pieces of new Jewellery, new records near the player and a couple of new vases with her favourite flowers in, cards tucked under them from friends and family. Even Jim's aunt and uncle visited. Ailill and Jim strolled in the garden for a while as Molly showed Anna, his wife, around.

Ailill and Anna Moriarty were like parents to Jim and Molly when they didn't have any. They had moved over from Ireland so he could get a job and taken Jim in after his mother was killed. Anna had nicknames for Molly and Seb that he would shout out every time he saw them. Seb was always dtrioblóid _(Trouble)_, and Molly was Anam (Soul.). Jim thought they were very fitting really

Both of them wandered through the gardens slowly until they were called for dinner. Ailill was Jim's only relative that would care for him. His father never had any other family at all. Jim was very much like Ailill. In looks and mind. They both slipped there hands in their pockets and walked the same way. Silent for much of the time.

"Jim, tá tú ceart go leor?"_ (Jim, are you ok?)_

"Yeah, fíneáil, Ailill." _(Yeah, fine Aillil.)_

"Ní gá duit dealraíonn sé an-mhaith." _(You don't look like it.)_

"Tá mé ceart go leor, ach rudaí cuimhneamh. Tá a fhios agat cad is ciall agam." _(Yeah I'm fine. Just remebering things. You know what I mean.)_

Ailill nods. "Mé a choinneáil ag cuimhneamh uirthi freisin. Bhí sí mo cúpla, conas a d'fhéadfadh mé dearmad di? Molly gcuimhne a lán de léi freisin." (_I remember her a lot too. She was my twin, how could I forget her? Molly reminds me so much of her.)_

Jim just nods back in reply, very much in a similar way.

"Jim, erm, seo cuireadh os a chionn. Bhí sé i mo dhearthár áiléar go dtí go ndeachaigh a iníon tríd. Ba chóir duit a bheith air." _(Jim, erm, this was sent over. It was in my brothers attic until his daughter went through it. You should have it.) _Ailill pulls a small package out of his his coat pocket and passes it over to Jim. "Ba chóir duit rud éigin ar leith ó cuimhní cinn de di." _(You should have something apart from just memories.)_

After dinner, Molly had a video call from her elder brother in Cyprus, stationed there with his new family. He was sitting there in uniform, generally chatting and introducing everybody to his first child. A baby daughter, only a couple of days old.

"Look Izzie, it's Auntie Molly and Uncle Jim." Mark so her off proudly as people started gathering. Pointing at each of them. "There's Uncle Seb, Auntie Anna and Uncle Ailill."

He invited them all over to the camp and asked Molly and Jim to be little Elizabeth Molly Hooper's godparents. Jim was absolutely delighted when he saw her, instantly saying yes when Mark asked. "I'm going to spoil her rotten." He smiled, looking down at Molly. Suddenly seeing the resemblance between Izzie and her aunt.

"Not before me." Mark and Molly said at the exact same time, reducing everybody to laughter.

When everything calmed down later on, Jim and Molly sat at the oak tree and watched the sun go down. Jim's arms around Molly as he leaned against the bark. Pulling his coat around them both.

She looks up at him. "Your unusually quiet."

"Just thinking."

"About?"

"Everything. Another year with you, Izzie, this." He removes the package out of his coat pocket.

"Was that why you two were in the garden?"

He nods. "Yes, We were catching up. Talking about things. Stories."

"What is it?"

"I don't know. I haven't opened it yet." He offered it to her, keeping them wrapped up. She slowly opened it to find papers and a golden ring with a small emerald in. She takes it out and gives it to him, glancing over the handwritten letters and documents.

"It's my mothers ring, one her father gave her on her eighteenth birthday. She said she wanted to give to her daughter, if she had one. Since she didn't, I guess they thought she would want me to have it."

"What will you do with it?" Not looking up from the papers that she was reading.

He thought for a second before taking Molly left hand an slipping it onto her finger. "She would have loved you." Kissing the back of her hand and in her hair, holding her tight. "You would remind us all of her... She was sweet, kind and loving too."

"Jim I-I can't..." She looked back up at him. "It's your mothers..."

"Is breá liom tú, consider it you engagement ring. More then ten years overdue." He kisses her again and chuckles a little. "What are the papers?"

She smiles at him and kisses him. "A couple of letters and your birth certificate."

"Letters?"

"There's a couple for you."

"Read them to me, please."

_**Do mo buachaill beag milis Jim...**_

(To my sweet little boy Jim...)


	10. Chapter 10

Sorry for the mistakes if you find them. Especially my Gaelic, It is a little rusty. Ok, I haven't done it in years so do tell me if it is wrong. Triggers. I still don't own any of the characters and never will probably. Please leave a comment. Thanks for reading!

...

Jim was in his office, drumming his fingers on the desk when Seb walked in. Before he could even speak, Jim was on his feet and talking, "I want to do something special. Show off. Show her off. She's near the end of her stay. What do you suggest?"

"Well… A dinner is a must. Go all out. Candles, dancing, fancy dress. But before any of that, I think you should then take it into the grounds. Make an impression."

"Sounds great. Three days time. Get to work." Jim smirked and stood to his feet. He had to figure out a few details first. He quickly made his way out of the office and shut the door behind him. Seb was left in the office with a slightly dazed look as it dawned on him what Jim meant. "Damm it, you twat." He mumbled before standing to his feet and pulling out his phone to make a few calls, inviting people.

Molly had just finished getting dressed into simple jeans and a jumper when two arms wrapped around her waist and Jim's head laid on her shoulder. "Good morning, Is there something you need?" She smiled.

He smirked at the woman in front of him. "I can't just hug you, can I?"

She chuckles a little. "Jim, we know what happens when you want to just hug me. St George's bay, remember?"

He chuckled as he remembered, pulling her body even closer to his. "Yes, I'll aways need you. I was wondering if you would join me for a walk around the grounds. It might be fun."

They walked in the garden, chatting for several minutes, just taking in the garden. Jim had only like the aesthetic reason for having the garden, was Molly's area to make the house look nice, she did it rather well too. Molly enjoyed the flowers. She closed her eyes and focused on their smell.

Jim soon began to pull her towards the woods, "Come along. I have something to show you." Molly noticed a path had been cut just wide enough for people to walk on. The path itself appeared to be not to be maintained, running up a small hill.

After they entered the woods, Jim stopped to point something out to her. "Look there. Do you see it?" It was an old, simple but very beautiful gazebo in the middle of the woods. The sun was filtering through the trees and fell on the green roof.

Jim took slow steps towards the gazebo and smiled at Molly, "I thought you might like it." He leaned against one of the support beams and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Like it? It's amazing, Jim." She was so transfixed by the gazebo that when she turned around to look at Jim, she blushed. She had not mean to sound over excited but it was difficult to control herself at times. "Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?" She asked excitedly.

"I only found it a couple of weeks ago." He mumbled and took one of his hands in hers. She felt how warm his hands felt in hers and smiled up at him. She glided her hand over the wood. Retracting it when she got a splinter. "I'm thinking of having a party in three days time, I thought you might want to do it up and we would have some of the guests up here." He said, putting a hand on her waist after taking the the splinter out.

They stayed that way, looking into each other's eyes until the chirp of a bird brought them out of their daze. Both looked around and laughed. "A challenge I will happily undertake."

He led them down a path to get back to the house. "Tell me if you need anything. I'll get it all for you."

All three set to work immediately, only really talking on the occasional passing in the corridor or at dinner, updating each other on the progress they were making. Although Molly only gently reassured them, giving her word that it would be ready in time.

###

After getting out of the shower, Molly toweled off and wrapped it around her while moving to look through the dressed that were in the wardrobe. She decided on the simple yet elegant red dress. It was floor length with one strap and a little bit of detail.

When she opened the door to look at him, his eyes grew wide once again at seeing her. He had decided to go all out and wear a tuxedo for her. He looked her over and smiled, "It's been a while since I've seen you in one of those." He kissed her hand and smiled.

Molly felt herself blush but nodded at Jim, gazing at him. "Viviane's been around then."

Jim then offered his hand and led her down stairs to the dining room. Everything was set out and ready for the guests to come. Seb was just placing the name cards out. Carefully not wanting to start a feud again. Picking at the cold food that was already laid on the table. Molly came up behind him and slapped his hand before taking some. "Later Seb." Jim just stood at the door frame and laughed at Seb gently rubbing his hand like a little child.

He looked over at Jim, who just laughed again. "She's the hostess..."

Seb growled a little playfully before laughing too. "I was just checking it."

She grabbed Jim's hand and pulls him over to the woods to show him what she had been doing the past few days, leading him up the cleared path, practically unrecognisable to Jim. They were following the music up to the clearing, guided by the lights draped from the trees.

It was not until he saw it up close that he recognised it. He glided his hand over the now smooth painted wood. "Who did you get to do this? I might have to give him a pay rise. It's fantastic."

"She doesn't want one, she's at the party." She smiled waiting for him to realise.

"You will have to introduce her to me." His eyes following the curved patterns of the wood to the arches on the roof.

"I don't need to, you know her very well already."

The penny finally dropped he looked at her. "You did this. All of it, by yourself."

She nods as Jim pulled her in by her waist. "What did you think my father and I did while you were away? All that needed doing was a little repair and renovation."

"Tú riamh stop a chur orm iontach, fiú tar éis am seo go léir." _(You never stop amazing me, even after all this time.)_ Putting his hand on her cheek as he kissed her. She slowly ran her hand through his hair. His other hand sliding down her back slowly, pressing them gently against one of the pillars.

"I'd rather you didn't get that far with my cousin while the guests are arriving. Especially if my little brother is here..." Jim sighed and glanced over at Seb, not letting go of her. Seb continued anyway "May I remind you of the time that we and Mark saw a guy hitting on her."

He scowled at Seb before looking back at Molly and kissing her again. "You all punched his face in until it was black..." Jim droned before she put a hand onto his shoulder, then interlocked the fingers of their free hands. He whispered into Molly's ear, "He forgets who killed him." He laughs until he hears the guests coming up the path.

"It's show time." They glided around dancing as the guests came into the clearing.

The night was far too short for Molly and Jim. He wondered why he didn't want to be separated from her but didn't think anything of it for long. They wandered around greeting people, a glass of wine in their hands. Jim's other one resting on her hip for as long as he possibly could hold it there.

Molly was about to walk the dining room but Jim reached out and took her hands in his. He looked into her light brown eyes and leaned his head forward. He suddenly restrained himself from moving too close. He only pressed his forehead to hers instead as the guests walked past. She smiled at him and waited for them all to go past before planting a kiss on his lips.

Two men stood at the end of the corridor and the taller man cleared his throat. "I warned you." Seb called out.

Another voice piped up just after, the same accent as his taller brother. Nudging him in the ribs. "I think that Molly's the one that needs to be warned." He laughs. "Come on, I'm hungry. Can't start without the hosts."

"Typical Moran brothers." She rolled her eyes glancing at Jim as she whispers. Jim sighs and kisses the hand that he was holding. Drawing her into dining room, followed by Seb and Tom.

Jim and Molly ended up back at the gazebo at the end of the night. Well, it was more toward the early hours of the morning. Molly had flicked off her heels ands was sat against the pillar with his head in her lap. His jacket folded under his head, holding her hand on his chest. The other stroking his hair.

"Do you think we've made an impression on them?" Jim smirked.

"If that doesn't, I don't know what will." She smiles down at him.

He reaches up and touches her cheek. "I don't want you to leave."

"I've got to, keeping up appearances and so on."

"Tom is going with you, I don't want you over there on your own without someone there I trust."

She nods at him. "It won't be long before I'm back."

"It will be long. I don't like it when you're away." Leaning up to kiss her again. She hushed him as he sat up and lent his head on her chest.

"I will be perfectly fine." Kissing his head. He looked up at her reassuring smile and nuzzled her neck. "I promise I'll be back before you know it." She put a hand on his cheek as he gently kisses and nibbled at her neck.

...


	11. Chapter 11

Sorry for the mistakes if you find them. Especially my Gaelic, It is a little rusty. Ok, I haven't done it in years so do tell me if it is wrong. This was idea of a very good friend of mine. Dedicated to her really. Triggers. It is a little sensual at the end. What? He hasn't seen her in months, what do you expect? I still don't own any of the characters and never will probably. Please leave a comment. Thanks for reading!

...

It was near Christmas and she was still at work. Why she had to work so hear to Christmas is anyone's guess. She always had the three weeks off, unless she was called in by Lestrade or Sherlock. For all the other overtime she did and for putting up with him for the entire year.

The first gift arrived in the morning with no fanfare. It was simply there, on her packed desk full of paperwork. She had only gone out to the vending machine, a couple of minutes at the maximum.

Molly turned, scanning the morgue for whoever could have left her the gift. Looking under her desk, and in the store cupboard, just to be sure. Even with the lights off, always had a dull blue glow of light running around the ceilings. She would have seen anyone come in. But there was no one else in the room.

Molly eyed the long box. It was wrapped in a Forrest green paper that gave off a dim sheen in the light. A single golden ribbon was tied in to a bow and a small tag could be seen sneaking out from beneath. She untied the ribbon carefully. The box was red velvet, a jeweler's box. Molly lifted the lid with trembling fingers. A bracelet of diamonds glittered next to the satin. Sliding it on for the day since she didn't have and autopsies planned that day.

Chuir sé i gcuimhne dom de tú. - JM _(It reminded me of you.)_

The second gift appeared at lunch, sitting in her normal place in the canteen. It was the only time she had been down there all day, it could have been delivered at any point. Of course, she stood around with the tray and looked around. A couple of nurses looking over and giggling at her. She felt so stupid now, just staring at the gift.

She slides it to the side of the table as she eats, picking it up and taking it back to her office.

On the way over one of the nurses bumped into her on purpose. "He told me to do this." Molly gave her a puzzling look., realising that she was new and wouldn't recognise him. "He had a Irish accent, he said to make sure you had it."

She undid the ribbon and unwrapped the paper to find a book. A first addition of the Grimm Tales illustrated by her favourite Artist, Eleanore Abbot.

Tá a fhios agam cé mhéad mian leat é. - JM _(I know how much you like it.)_

The third gift was given to her in the park as she sat by herself sipping tea and reading the Newspaper on her break. She always enjoyed getting away from the hospital, even if it was only for fifteen minutes.

"Auntie Molly?" A little voice came out of the blue

Molly glanced up at the teenager and his little sister that were standing before her. He looked a little rough around the edges. Jason was quite the artist, that as the one thing they had on common. Dried spray paint coated his fingernails and there was a smudge of clay on the collar of his frayed t-shirt. The little girl was a lot cleaner with a little yellow dress on

"Jason, what are you doing around here? Here's your Dad?" She picked the little girl up and sat her on her knee, letting her play with the lab coat.

He shrugged and held out a box wrapped in green paper and tied with a gold ribbon. "He's around. Doing a couple of errands for Uncle Jim."

She stood and tucked the paper under her arm. "Is he around?"

The boy gave her a lopsided smile, "He said that you'd say that. All he said was if you don't take it from me now you'll get him it from him later on." He chuckled at the innuendo.

"Thank you. He's over there." She took the small gift off him. Pointing in the direction of Tom, standing over on the corner waiting for Jason and Ellla. "Tell him I'll see him later."

The boy took off once she accepted the gift. She hadn't always come out to the park. It was a new habit she had started over the last few weeks. That meant that he was having her followed, she just started laughing.

Molly slid one finger under the green paper, she set the paper aside and opened the box. The first thing she saw was the smooth velvet of the red notebook, with sleek white paper, and the finest pens and pencils that money could buy.

Dúirt tú go raibh tú ag rith amach as soláthairtí. - JM _(You said you were running out of supplies.)_

The final gift was left on her desk at 10:05 pm. About the size of a dress box from his favourite designer, also wrapped in rich green paper and tied with a golden ribbon.

"Nollaig Shona, Mo ghrá." _(Merry Christmas, My love.)_

He was dressed handsomely in a charcoal suit. His hands were in his pockets and he slouched casually where he stood. "Did you miss me?" He began walking towards her slowly.

She almost ran to him and embraced him, kissing him, her hands placed on his cheek. "Of course I did." His hands settling on her hips.

He walked over to the table and picked up the gift. "I see Tom and Jason have been doing well then."

"Yes, they've managed it quite well."

"Good. We're going home for the three weeks you have off." He put the box in her hands and swung around so he was behind her, pulling her into him. "Open it and put it on."

She slowly pulled herself away, going to get changed. "Is that a Sig Sauer in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?" Grinning as she left the room.

Molly walked back into the room a couple of minutes later. Twirling so he could see every inch of her. Jim beckoned her over to him.

"Close your eyes." He pulled out a small necklace to match the bracelet that he had given her. She could feel the small diamonds settle on her chest. He tilted her head to one side, brushed her hair away and kissed her neck. "It's not my gun, if your were wondering." He whispered and hummed into her ear. "You really do look beautiful in green."

"Later Jim."

"Tá mé caillte i bhfad tú ró chun fanacht go fada." _(I lost you far to long to wait._) He nuzzled her neck while his hand snuck through the slit on the side of her dress, feeling the skin of her thigh for the first time in months. "Dia, tá mé chaill tú." _(God I've missed you.)_

...


	12. Chapter 12

Sorry for the mistakes if you find them. Especially my Gaelic, It is a little rusty. Ok, I haven't done it in years so do tell me if it is wrong. Triggers. Something big is coming up for Jim. I still don't own any of the characters and never will probably. Please leave a comment. Thanks for reading!

...

It was Jim's idea to be married on New Years Day. New year, new life. Well, almost. More on a whim thought up on Boxing Day. Like everything that happened to them.

It was a small church ceremony. Jim and the rest of the close family were stunned when she walked down the aisle in her beautiful dress, Mark at her side. Only Jim would have planned a wedding in under a week.

The reception was on a much bigger scale with important friends, associates and clients attending. This was to show Jim's power more than anything. To show off his new wife. Molly didn't mind it that much. They were together and that's what really mattered. Jim pulled Molly toward him for their first dance, pressing their bodies together.

"You look beautiful." Jim whispered in her ear as they waltzed around.

"As charming and handsome as ever." Both of them smile as he twirled her around.

They finished the dance and Jim took her hand and pulled them up to the Gazebo. Molly sat on the red velvet cushion that Jim put there earlier, her white dress spread, covering most of the clean wooden flooring. He flicked his shoes off and leaned into her lap, staring up to the stars glistening in the dark sky silently for a while. The devil in a suit as back as his heart leaning his head on the angel's body,;as pure as the white dress she was wearing.

Out of nowhere he asked something. "Do you think they are up there? My mother and your parents."

"I think they are. Keeping an eye us."

"That's a thought." He points up to a trio of stars. "Right there." Jim craned his neck to look up Molly. She lent down and kissed his lips.

"The brightest ones in the sky." She smiled. "Sounds like them." She chuckled.

"It does." He leaned his head on her shoulder, catching a closer glimpse of her vail. "Where did you get the vail from, old lace, something from when we were kids."

"I wanted to wear something of hers."

He looked up. "Who's?"

"Eva's. Anna had it. She hated that she couldn't be there for her brother's wedding because she was heavily pregnant with you so she gave it to Anna. It was her's originally." She took it off, folded it up cautiously and handed it to him.

He ran his fingers over the lace delicately. Keeping it close to his chest. "It's really hers?"

Molly nodded and kissed him on the head. "It's hers. I really wanted something of hers to be close to us during the ceremony."

"I love you. " He kissed Molly, running a thumb over the lace. "Is breá liom tú araon."_ (I love you both.)_

###

Everything was peaceful in the house as one year turned into another. Jim sat back in his office chair, looking at the closed door, listening. When he heard her laughter from the kitchen, he relaxed and turned back around.

Jim Moriarty loved surprises. He loved being caught off guard, the thrill of just not seeing something coming. Few of the things that made monotony bearable. The woman in the other room was the biggest surprise he'd ever gotten.

Mrs. Molly Moriarty was the defiantly the biggest surprise of all. He did not expect her to accept him the way she did. Never mind love him. Many would have sense to run away but she didn't. She still loved him after telling her his history, the idea of the Consulting Criminal and the fact that he ordered deaths.

He just kept listening to her laughter, it kept reminding him of that night. One of the little things that would always make him smile. Just to know that she was happy. That she was safe. Surrounded by family. That was the only thing he hated about being a criminal. Trying to keep her safe from everything. Being away from her just to do that.

The cold blast of the phone rang through the warm laughter. Pulling him out of a semi-trance as he glanced at the computer screen. He cursed at himself and looked at it. He didn't recognise the number. That never happened. He scanned the area code again. Ireland...

Molly was sitting in the living room as chatted to her brother, having finally finished his time in Cyprus. Her little niece, sitting in her lap, had grown so much since their trip to Cyprus bordering five months before. The little girl twisting the two rings on her finger. Her whole family was there. Seb, Tom but only briefly, Mark, Jess and Izzie, Ailill and Anna. Except Jim, he was working. Finishing off something in his office.

She was chatting about everything, keeping each other updated on things. Laughing at some of the little stories that they said each other. In the back of mind, she wondered what was taking him so long. She glanced over at Seb and he nodded, getting up and excusing himself to go and see what as going on.

It was not until she heard a large thud on the floor when she realised that something was wrong. Startled, she passed Izzie over to Anna and excused herself. Indicating it Ailill to come too, just in case.

As they passed the kitchen she picked up the First Aid kit, the heavy thud sounded like somebody hit the floor. They followed the winding staircase up to Jim's office. The one place that Molly hadn't really been in that much. That's when the shouting started.

"For God's sake Jim, calm the hell down!" Seb was trying to keep calm as the door slowly opened, he could have easily beat Jim up if his temper got the better of him. Obviously when he got off the floor.

"How the hell can I do that? I swear that man is out to ruin my entire bloody life every time I finally feel..." He couldn't get the words out anymore. "I hate the barstard!" He spat at Seb, who was now feeling his own blood boil.

Jim turned to the window momentarily. She took the chance to pull Seb out and check if he was ok. Just a black eye from when Jim swung a tight left hook at him. She got him to take the family out into the garden, telling him to make up an excuse about the massive red mark on his face.

Ailill stood back as Molly slowly lifted Jim's knuckles to see how badly cut they were. "You shouldn't start punching holes in the walls. It's not good for your hand."

"I don't care about my bloody hand." He snapped, for the first time, at her. Not looking at her. Pulling his hand away from her.

She softly and calmly spoke, hoping he doesn't get that angry again. "I care about it, I care about you." He looks down at her as she ran a wipe over the bleeding knuckles and bandaged them. Only delicately touching it.

He thought he saw his mother for a second, mumbling then shouting the end. "Sin an méid a dúirt tú dó. Ansin breathnú cad a rinne sé! Feall sé leat!" _(That's what you said to him. Then look what he did! He betrayed you!) _

Ailill pulled her back like a father protecting her daughter and looked his nephew square in the eye. "Cad é an ifreann fuilteach atá ar siúl? Ná lig dó a fháil isteach i do cheann!" _(What the hell is going on? Don't let him get into your head!)_

Jim went pale as he looked over at Molly, she looked scared for the first time. He sank to the ground, murmuring to himself. "Féach méid atá déanta agat. Is é seo do locht. Tá mé scriosta gach rud mar gheall tú."_ (Look what you've done. This is your fault. I've ruined everything because of you.)_

"Jim, look at me. Níor thug tú aon rud millte. Féach ar dom, le do thoil." _(You haven't spoiled anything. Look at me, please)._ She looked at him, putting a hand on his cheek.

"Molly, tá mé mar sin leithscéal! Ní-Ní raibh mé chiallaíonn sin a dhéanamh. _(Molly, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to do that.)_ He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in, kissing her forehead. "Tá mé mar sin leithscéal. Please forgive me?"

She nods, her head on his chest. "What's going on Jim?"

"The Warden of the prison called. He's dying and he wants to talk to me." Jim solemnly announced to them. Looking at Ailill for some kind of advice as he kept her in his arms. His bandaged hand stroking her hair. "I-I don't know if I could."

"Go. Show him what he has missed. Show him that you are a much better husband and a man that he will ever be." His eyes look down at Molly, all of them knew what he really meant.

Jim hesitates. "I've haven't been back to Ireland since then." He looked down at Molly. "He-I don't know what he will do, he's a stanch Irish Catholic. One of the few that actually fit the Irish stereotype. He even refused to learn English. Having a English daughter-in-law would be the worst thing for him." Jim held Molly even closer.

"I'll be ok Jim." Molly looked up at him. "He won't be able to do anything."

...


	13. Chapter 13

Sorry for the mistakes if you find them. Especially my Gaelic, It is a little rusty. Ok, I haven't done it in years so do tell me if it is wrong. Triggers. I still don't own any of the characters and never will probably. Please leave a comment. Thanks for reading!

...

Jim and Molly stepped into the hospital, Jim hesitating in the reception area. Molly took his hand and quietly nodded at him. "Only if you want too."

"Your going to stay with me? Promise?" She nods at him and squeezes his hand tightly in response. He still hesitates. "Are you really? Even after meeting him?"

Molly looks at him, a thumb gliding over his cheekbone. "I gcónaí Jim, tá tú mo fhear céile. Ní bhíonn tú mhaith é." (_Always Jim, you're my husband. You're not like him.) _

He kissed her forehead and kept her close as they followed the nurse through to the room where James was staying. Jim made sure that Molly was behind him all the time. They all stopped at the door for a second. The policeman guarding the door unlocks it for them.

"Mr. Ó Neill. Tá tú cuairteoirí." _(You have visitors.)_

Molly followed Jim into the room. Their gaze fell onto the thin man laying in the hospital bed, handcuffed to the bed. Tubes and wires coming out of him. Molly know what it all meant and how ill he actually was. The nurse retreated out of the room after she did his general checks.

The now old man looked up at the couple. The man stood straight with a sharp suit on, he only just recognised him. The woman stood just behind him, slightly smaller with mousy brown hair tried up. He had no idea who she was or what she was doing there. His fading eyesight looked back at the man. "James?"

"Tá sé dom. Glaoch siad dom Jim Moriarty anois." _(It's me. They call me Jim Moriarty now.)_

"Do mháthair sloinne réamhphósta. An é sin an méid a iarrann sí ort?" _(You're mother's maiden name. Is that what she calls you?) _Sitting up slowly, wincing a little before gesturing to Molly.

"Is ea James. Is é seo an Molly, d'iníon sa dlí." _(Yes James. This is Molly, your daughter in law.)_

"James? Ghlaonn tú dom James? Tá mé d'athair. A beag níos mó meas, le do thoil. Pósta tú ansin." (_James? You call me James? I'm you're father. A little more respect, please. You married then.)_

"Chaill tú go bhfuil ar an oíche sin, chomh maith leis an gceart a bheidh le glaoch athair."_(You lost that on that night, as well as the right to be called father.)_ Jim's fist tightened. Molly slipped her hand back into his to calm him down. "Sea rinne mé, mé ar a dtugtar uirthi ar feadh i bhfad. Choinnigh sí liom ar an mbóthar ceart." (_Yes I did, I've known her for a long time. She kept me on the right track.)_ Clearly still angry at James, he turned to Molly who gave Jim a gentle reassuring smile.

"Cén fhad a bhfuil tú dhá 'curtha le chéile' ansin? Cad a dhéanann tú do chuid oibre? Tacaíocht a thabhairt duit a ceart, a bheith sa bhaile." _(How long have you two 'been together' then? What do you do for work? You support her right, being at home.) _James tried to avoid the subject entirely.

"Cúig bliana déag. Tá Cumann athraithe ó bhí tú thrown i bpríosún James, táimid ag an dá obair. Tá mé ina chomhairleoir agus Molly Dochtúir." (_Fifteen years. Society has changed since you were thrown in jail James, we both work. I'm a consultant and Molly is a Doctor.)_

James laughed, fading into coughing. "Dochtúir baineann. Sin an chéad uair a chuala mé amháin. Cá ndeachaigh tú freastal uirthi? Mhongóil Amuigh? I mo thuairimse, d'fhéadfadh sí a bheith suite a thabhairt duit." (_A female doctor. That's the first time I've heard of one. Where did you meet her? Outer Mongolia? I think she might be lying to you.)_

"Riamh Tá sí lied dom. Bhuail muid i Sasana. Ailill agus Anna thóg mé i ós rud é go mbeadh aon duine eile, mar gheall tú." (_She has never lied to me. We met in England. Ailill and Anna took me in since nobody else would, because of you._)

James looked at Jim with disgust. "Tar éis gach rud a mhúin mé tú. Rinne tú go díreach cad a dúirt mé leat gan é a dhéanamh. (_After everything I taught you. You did exactly what I told you not to do.)_ James went red with anger. "Ansin a théann tú, agus pósadh roinnt fraochun Béarla. Tá tú aon mac mianach." (_Then you go and marry some English whore. You are no son of mine_.)

Jim jumped up, almost standing over him. His fists tight. "Ná tú leomh glaoch ar mo bhean chéile go! Tá áthas orm a cheapann tú go bhfuil toisc go rinne tú mo shaol ifreann. Ní dóigh liom go mbeadh duine ar bith is mian leat mar athair ar aon nós. Ar a laghad ní bheidh mé buille mo bhean chéile agus páistí nó aon ní mór dúinn." (_Don't you dare call my wife that! I'm glad you think that because you have made my life hell. I don't think anyone would want you as a father anyway. At least I won't beat my wife and or any children we have._)

Molly stood between Jim and the bed. "He's angry. Leave it. He's not worth it at all." She unravels one of Jim's fists and holds it tight in her hands. "He's not worth the effort of getting angry or upset. Sit down, please."

Jim sits down, still furious. She turns towards James, still holding Jim's hand. "Is féidir liom go dtuigeann tú go foirfe go maith agus is féidir liom a insint duit an fhírinne macánta. Tá tú ciníoch a buille a bhean agus a leanbh toisc nach bhféadfadh sé seasamh suas dó féin. Agus do do chuid faisnéise, tá mé dílis le Jim ón gcéad lá a bhuail mé leis agus d'oibrigh mé go crua chun. Ní mór duit chun fás suas agus fíricí aghaidh, tá an domhan níos fulangach anois." (_I can understand you perfectly well and I can tell you the honest truth. You are a racist who beat his wife and child because he couldn't stand up for himself. And for your information, I have been faithful to Jim from the first day I met him and I work hard. You need to grow up and face facts, the world is more tolerant now._)

Jim was rather proud of his wife but didn't show it. James, on the other hand went pale and quiet. Molly carries on looking at James for a second, something in her eyes reminds him of Eva. The glare that lead him to kill her was killing him inside. He realised what he had actually done and his heart sank.

"Tá brón orm le haghaidh gach ngortú Tá mé ba chúis tú. Níor chóir Tá sé ráite agam na rudaí." (_I'm sorry for all the hurt I've caused you. I shouldn't have said those things._) He looked away. "Tá a fhios agam go raibh mé mícheart anois. Ní féidir liom a bheith ag súil maithiúnas, fiú amháin ó Dhia féin. Bhí mé feargach agus bhí sí ar tí é a chur chugam tríd náiriú." _(I know I was wrong now. I don't expect forgiveness, even from god himself. I was angry and she was about to put me through humiliation.)_

Jim looked at him. "Níl aon leithscéal chun é! Mharaigh tú di agus má tá fiú Dia, lig dó trócaire ar do anam." (_There is no excuse for it! You killed her and if there is even a god, let him have mercy on your soul._) He walked towards the door. "Come on Molly, he's said his piece. Let's leave him alone."

...


	14. Chapter 14

Sorry for the mistakes if you find them. Especially my Gaelic, It is a little rusty. Ok, I haven't done it in years so do tell me if it is wrong. Triggers. I still don't own any of the characters and never will probably. Please leave a comment if you want to. Thanks for reading!

...

_Could you get me a cup of coffee. Please. The other one is cold and I'm a little busy. - JM xx_

Molly rolled her eyes, that was the sixth one in five hours and she was about to daze off to sleep. She got up. Pulled on the nearest pair of pyjama bottoms, that just happened to be his, and wondered down to the kitchen. Flicking the kettle on and pulling a mug out out of the cupboard.

She wondered up to Jim's office with the steaming mug in her hand, determined to get him go to bed fairly soon. He hadn't been to sleep since they got back two days before. She walked in to see him lent back in his chair, rubbing his eyes to keep awake. She put the mug on his desk and was pulled swiftly into his lap, leaning his head on hers.

"Jim, come to bed and sleep. It's been two days. You won't last much longer." She mumbled into his chest

"I'm not tired." He lied. He wanted to answer the call in person. It was only a matter of time.

"Please Jim. I can see you are. One of the gifts of having a Doctor as a wife."

He stayed silent for a second. "I will sleep through the phone ringing. Heavy sleeper remember."

"When I hear it, I'll wake you up. I promise. Please just come to bed." She got up from his lap and tugged at his arm to try to get him up. He nods, quickly drinking his coffee, standing up and scooping her up to carry her down the stairs. "Jim, what you doing?"

"I remembered I never carried you over the threshold the night we were married. So I'm doing it now."

She giggled slightly at the rather romantic gesture. "You carried me over the threshold when we moved in."

"Apparently you do it twice." He grins, looking down at her. "Cén fáth a bhfuil tú ag breathnú i gcónaí níos fearr ná mise i mo chuid éadaigh féin?" (_Why do you always look better than me in my own clothes?)_ Kissing her gently.

Jim woke up in the early hours of the morning, only a couple of hours after he fell asleep. His head leaning on the soft fabric covering her abdomen, his hand on her hip. The soft lull of the music playing in the front room. It was strange, only they were in the house.

He wondered into the room to find the rather enjoyable, but also quite haunting, sound of 'The Thieving Magpie' being played on the record player. He sat and listened to it for a while, confused why it was even playing at that time of the morning. He couldn't understand the felling of relief that came over him in that moment, like something was not pulling him down anymore.

Molly sat up, not feeling the warmth that Jim usually added to the bed. She got up and followed the last part of the piece to the living room. She saw Jim in the chair and looked slightly confused. She waited until she end of the song wake him from his trance. "Jim, are you ok? What are you doing in here?"

He looked up at her and smiled. _"D_húisigh mé suas agus bhí sé ag imirt. An raibh tú ag dul sé ar?_"_ (I woke up and it was playing. Did you turn it on?)

She looks at him, he was acting rather strange. She shook her head. "Níl, bhí mé i leaba le leat. Go raibh tú ag luí orm."(_No, I was in bed with you. You were laying on me_.)

He gets up and shrugs. "Níl a fhios agam cén fáth go raibh sé ag imirt ansin." (_I don't know why it was playing then._) He grabbed her hand and started to pull them back to the bedroom. "Feicfidh mé a bheith ag féachaint ar an CCTV níos déanaí ach tá mé gach rud ag mothú ag dul a bheith fíneáil anois ar aon nós." (_I'll have a look at the CCTV later but I have a feeling everything's going to be fine now anyway._)

Jim slept through the rest of the night with Molly comfortably in his arms. Waking at the same time and going downstairs content with himself, forgetting he only had a pyjama bottoms on.

Molly got dressed and went downstairs to see Ella in Jim's lap, sharing a bowl of strawberries. Tom had dangerous business in London and brought the children around to protect them, barely saying hello before going back.

"Auntie Molly!" The little girl squeals, flailing her harms around as a four year old does. "Look what Uncle Jim got me for my... Wait I can get it..." She ponders for a second. "Breithlá!" (_Birthday_.) Standing on his lap excitedly and showing her the little dress she had on.

Jim laughed. "Well done Ella."

"You look pretty sweetie. There's something missing though." Pulling out a pink headband with a bow on it and a small bracelet and putting them on her. "Perfect. Happy birthday Ella." Kissing her head.

Jason sat on the other side of the table, chewing on a single piece of toast and scribbling on a piece of paper and a pen he found lying around the house. A lot cleaner from she last saw him. Molly looked at Jim and Ella, who had already going back to picking at the fruit. She sat opposite Jason. She slid the small box across the table. "We thought it would be fair since she gets the attention most of the time. There's some more in your room."

"Thanks Auntie Molly." He still looks a little down but carries on, getting up and hugging her.

"He will be ok. He will be back before you know it. Ella needs her big brother." She whispered into his ear. "Besides your Uncle Seb is with him." She gently smiles at him before he grabbed the box and went upstairs.

The office phone started to ring as Molly was talking to Jason so Jim carries Ella up to his office. He sat her on his office chair and answered the call.

"Hello? Mr Moriarty?" The timid Irish accent of a young Nurse came through the speaker. This was exactly the phone call what he had been waiting for two days to hear.

He turned so she couldn't hear what he was saying. "He's dead isn't he."

"Early this morning. I'm sorry for your loss."

"He's not that much of a loss. Thank you for informing me." He put the phone down and looked at Ella. Watching her as she looked at the photos on the desk, taking a particular interest in the black and white one on the right.

"Uncle Jim, who are they? The beautiful lady and the little boy with her? I know all the others." She was a curious child, always wanting to know things.

"That's me and my mum sweetie. When I was the same age as you."

"What's her name?"

"Eva."

"That's my middle name." She points at herself rather proudly as he lifts her up so he can sit in the chair too. "I haven't seen her before. Is she in heaven like my mummy?"

"She is." He smiled at her innocence. "I think that they are keeping an eye on both of us." Cuddling her at the thought.

She smiles. "Dadda said that the stars are them keeping an eye on us while we sleep."

"My mum used to say that the people that love us lay on the clouds and watch us so we don't do anything bad."

Molly gently walked up the stairs to hear the conversation between Jim and the little girl. She giggles, making him laugh too. She smiles brightly as she walks into the room and sees them. Ella wriggles in his lap as she sees Molly, wanting her to pick her up.

"Uncle Jim was just telling me about Eva." Pointing at the picture. "She's a clever, beautiful lady like you." She smiles up at Molly, who chuckles and smiles even brighter.

Jim grabbed Molly by the waist and pulled her down onto her lap. Looking at Ella and whispering, "By the look of it you will be just like them too."

Ella whispered back to him, like it was a secret. Using her hand to cover up what she was saying. Rather proud that she could say the whole sentence in Gaelic herself. "Maith. Ba mhaith liom a bheith ina dochtúir freisin." (_Good, I want to be a doctor too_.) Her face lights up as she thinks of something and asked to be put down, soon running off down to the stairs. "I need to practice!"

Molly watched her run out of the door before leaning her head on Jim's shoulder. "Be careful of the stairs Ella." They listened for the door at the end of the stairs to shut before talking.

"She will go far. I can see it already." Jim said, slightly proud. Like she was his daughter.

"She will. Before you know it she will be working with you."

Jim laughed. "She probably will be. She want to be a doctor though."

Molly smiles. "She can be anything she wants to be. Was that the office phone

"Yes. Early this morning."

She wrapped her arms around him and places a kiss on his collar bone. He sat there almost sighing in relief, leaning his head on hers. "I love you Molly. I really do."

"I love you too Jim."

He kisses the top of her head. "I can't wait until have our own children."

...


	15. Chapter 15

Sorry for the mistakes if you find them. Especially my Gaelic, It is a little rusty. Ok, I haven't done it in years so do tell me if it is wrong. Triggers. Something big is coming up for Jim. I still don't own any of the characters and never will probably. Please leave a comment. Thanks for reading!

...

Molly, wandered into the kitchen, still in the vest top and pyjama shorts that she wore to bed. She picked up an apple and bit into it. Leaning against the counter and staring out the window. Jim stood behind her, grabbed an apple, took a bite, looked at the fruit, and then threw it out of the small gap in the window. He was restless.

"Bored or just thinking?" Molly asked curiously.

He finished chewing and turned to her. "Thinking." Mouth full of the remnants.

"Of what?" Molly walked over to him and ran a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes and tilted his head. Humming, holding her waist, kissing her cheek.

"Something's not right." He sighs, resting his head on her shoulder. "They should be back by now." Kissing her neck.

He walked absently out of the kitchen and sat himself down at the grand piano he had in the living room. Molly walked in and stood at the door as she heard a key being struck on the piano. A slow melody began and Molly knew better not to interrupt or distract him. Seb was the last one to do that and he was punched in the face. Closing her eyes, she relished the music, listening quietly to the genius who was playing the piano.

Mindlessly, Jim played; the brilliancy of what he was playing just came naturally to him. But it was simple sounding, not what he was use to playing. He seemed to like it.

She slowly draped her warm arms over his shoulders and nuzzled her face against his neck. He leaned back and kissed her. Pulling her closer to him, he grasped one of her hands and kissed the palm and her wrist, feeling the callouses gained by her profession, and her dedication to him.

"They will back soon. They will be fine."

"I'm going." He suddenly said. He got up and pulled out the gun from the cabinet near them, ignoring her. She stopped him at the doorway.

"What? You can't go Jim! They will know you were there and you're alive." Holding him back by putting her hands on his chest.

He sighs. "They won't, I promise." He looked down at Molly's glistening brown eyes and locked onto them, silencing him.

The silence was cut by by the three cars that rolled over the gravel in just outside if the house. Both of them looked out of the window to see most of the men get of the car. There was a small sigh if relief until two men were dragged out of the car, Seb supported Tom and the other was pulled in by another one of Jim's men.

Both of their instincts kicked in as they rushed down the stairs. Molly went straight to Tom, who was bleeding profusely from the shoulder. He had been shot at close range and the only thing keeping him from going into shock was his brother's voice.

Seb pulled Jim to the side and said one little word that triggered the whole team to look up and run to particular posts within the house. Seb picked up Tom and pulled him to the panic room in the basement.

Jim pulled Molly into embrace. "You need to take Ella down to the panic room and look after Tom and Andrew. Everything you need is down there. Whatever happens you can't come out until me or Seb come and get you." He ran a hand through her hair as she was about to protest. "I knew this might happen one day. Just get the kids and hide."

"Jim, what's going on?" She had a fair idea but asked anyway.

He hushed her and kissed her gently. Whispering in her ear as one of his men stand there waiting for him to release her. "They know we are here. Is breá liom tú." _(I love you.)_ He walked anyway towards the chaos that was about to begin outside.

Jason passed him on the way down with another of the men shadowing him before going back to his post. He stopped them for a second. He knew Molly was going to kill him for giving the fifteen year old a gun but did it anyway. "You keep that hidden until there is an absolute threat to any of you. Do you understand? Remember what you've been taught by us. If anyone tries to get in and they don't say the safe word within ten seconds, then fire and ask questions later. You have to promise me this."

"I promise sir. " Jason realises the seriousness of the situation and keeps to what training he has had. He checks the safety on it and slips it in his waistband so nobody can see it before heading off to the panic room.

By the time Tom recovered consciousness, it felt like all out war. They all could hear the shot ringing out Ella having a tight grip on her aunt. He blinked and stared around. Both of his children were there and Molly, thank god. All that kept running through his head were Jim and Seb, where the hell were they?

Molly had managed to remove the bullets from both the injured men. Luckily the person wasn't a very good shot. Ella watched her, taking her mind off the loud bangs muffled by the metal walls. Jason helped as much as he could while the others stared at the only way in or out. Waiting for something to happen.

They must have followed them here with only Seb noticing. Tom tied to sit up but the searing pain in his shoulder stopped him. All eyes switched to the door as it buzzed open and the safe word spoken. Tom was slightly relieved that it was his brother's voice.

"Grab everything you can and get into the cars, we are leaving as soon as possible."

"Seb, what is going on? Where's Jim?" Molly picked Ella up and stared at him. "Seb, where is he?"

...


End file.
